The After Life In A Train
by Zeff N Company
Summary: After death, Syaoran boarded the Fog Express, a train souls ride until they're ready to let go of the past life and move on. But how does one let go of something, specifically someone, that meant the entire world to him? SxS. No OCxSakura, I mean it.
1. The After Life

_**# beep......beep......beep......beep #**_

Ugh... Where am I?

_**# beep......beep......beep......beep #**_

Come on...think...... _think_! Plane takeoff... plane landing...

_**# beep......beep......beep......beep #**_

Bus! Yes, bus. I was on the bus leaving the airport. I just got back to Japan. I was heading for my old apartment. I was preparing myself to see so many people....

_**# beep......beep......beep......beep #**_

Wait a minute! Buses don't smell of antibiotic chemicals! Buses definitely don't have incessant beeping ringing in your ears. _Where am I_?

**_# Click-click #_**

**_"Any leads to this kid's identity yet, Akita?"_**

**_"He had quite a few addresses in his wallet, sempai, but most of them were messed up pretty badly."_**

What?! Wallet?! What are they doing with my wallet?! Someone tell them to give that back!

_**"I only managed to decipher one name: Kinomoto Sakura."**_

_**"That's fine. Go find the number of this person and contact her. Tell her to come here."**_

No! Don't call Sakura! You can't! I'm not ready to see her yet! I don't have enough mental preparation to tell her yet!

_**"Yes, sempai."**_

_**#Click-click#**_

Wait! Stop! Don't I get a _say_ in any of this?! Come back here!

**_# beep-beep-beep-beep-beep-beep-beep-beep #_**

**_"Oh no. Akita! Hold it! Come back in here!"_**

Thank goodness. Someone's listening. Hang on, why is it getting harder and harder to breathe all of the sudden?!

**_# beep-beep-beep-beep-beep-beep-beep-beep #_**

**_"Akita! Go get Doctor Inuzaki! NOW!!"_**

**_"Yes, sempai! Right away!"_**

**_# Click-click #_**

**_"Hold on, kid. Hold on, damn you...."_**

Rapid beeping? Breathing difficulty? Doctor? Hold on?

It can't be.... don't tell me...

I'm dying?!

**_# beep-beep-beep-beep-beep-beep-beep-beep #_**

Wait a minute! I can't die yet! There are so many things I haven't done!

**_# beep-beep-beep-beep-beep-beep-beep-beep #_**

_**"He's starting to go...WHERE IS THAT DOCTOR?!"**_

I'm not ready yet! I can't die! Not like this!

Not now!

Not-

**_# beeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee......... #_**

/-----------------------------------/

_**"He's gone...."**_

_**Fujiwara Sanji released his hold on the boy's shoulders, and took two shaky steps back. Bowing his head, he toyed with suppressed anger. Why did this have to happen? And to a kid of all people?**_

_**Just then, the boy's doctor burst in with Akita only a few paces behind. Fujiwara looked up and glared venomously at the doctor.**_

_**"You took your time, all right," he muttered, looking back at the bed. "Look what it did."**_

_**Akita fell back against the door, whimpering a little in her sobs of sympathy for the dead boy she never really knew.**_

_**The doctor looked at the wailing machine, then at the boy, then back at the machine. Slowly, he approached it and switched it off. Leaning a little on it, he sighed. "I'm so sorry."**_

_**"You'd better be," Fujiwara replied. "For the sake of your humanity, you'd better be."**_

/-----------------------------------/

"-yet. #blink# Shit! _Now_ where am I?"

The boy looked around him uncertainly.

It was, no doubt, an underground train station. Better lighting was definitely in order: all he could see was gray shade as color for almost everything. The station was also deserted, except for one train that stood motionless behind him on its track, chanting something over and over again to itself.

"**Last call for the _Fog Express_, serial no. 66-55-91. Last call for the _Fog Express_, serial no. 66-55-91...**"

With no other available choice, the boy approached the train and looked down at what looked like the speaker unit. "Excuse me."

"**Welcome, sir. Please insert your letin before boarding.**"

The boy paused, now even more confused than before. "My...what?"

The voice crackled into static, and was replaced by a more natural one that sounded distinctly like a man's. "**Hey, kid. Look in your left trouser pocket. What do you see?**"

Finding something he could understand at last , the boy carefully felt around his pocket until he found a small sheet of card. He pulled it out. "Just this card here."

"**That's good. Now stick it in the slot with the arrow. Right there.**"

Although still confused, the boy quickly obliged. In a mechanical whirl, the card was pulled completely through the slot. A row of lights blinked in consecutive order, and the first voice returned. "**Recognition attained. Access granted.**" The doors slid open. "**Welcome aboard the _Fog Express_, serial no. 66-55-91.**"

As the boy stepped in, the man's voice greeted him again.

"**That's right, Mr. Li Syaoran. Welcome to the rest of your miserable next life.**"


	2. Getting Comfy

"**That's right, Mr. Li Syaoran. Welcome to the rest of your miserable next life.**"

_Nothing like being honest._ Syaoran thought. He looked around the train interior._ So this is what it's like to be dead. Quite unexpected._

Slowly, Syaoran made his way down the line of carriages. Somewhere along, he had to pick his way pass three sleeping hyenas in the middle of the floor, between the two endless rows of seats. The rest of the journey, after that, was uneventful, and he made it to the middle carriage. That was where he found the next former member of humanity.

Draped lazily over one of the seats was a tall man in a light gray trench coat with two crimson crosses on either side. His sandy-blonde hair was trimmed short enough to make each individual hair stand up, except for one or two strands that arched in front of his forehead. Across his face was a long red scar that, in a creepy way, made him look both daring and handsome. His eyes were closed in slumber, and his black-gloved hands were relaxed and still. Deciding against bothering him, Syaoran attempted to tip-toe pass. It worked with the hyenas, it should work with this guy.

"Can I help ya, Winky?"

Okay, maybe not.

Syaoran turned back to look at the man again. The man's eyes, a bright emerald, eyed him with a curious air, and the small smile on his face looked smug, yet uncommitted in any way.

"If you're bored, just stick around here for a bit. The bowling session isn't until another hour."

Syaoran nodded, then stopped as he realized something: How did a guy that looked so extremely West-converted know his home language so well?

"You know Chinese?"

The man snorted. "I'm not speaking in 'Chinese', Winky. Neither are you, actually. Here, we've only got one language, and everyone knows and uses it immediately on arrival."

"And what's it called?" Syaoran asked.

"Dead Man's Basic."

Syaoran frowned. "That's insane."

"Nope. It's just shit, Winky. It happens," the man replied. He patted the seat beside him. "Name's Seifer Almasy. Here, sit down."

Syaoran did as he was bade and looked up at the much taller man. "I'm Li Syaoran."

Seifer nodded. "Good name. Pleasure to meet you, Winky."

"Why do you keep calling me 'Winky'?"

Seifer shrugged. "You remind me of Winky."

"Alright, then, who's Winky?"

"My dog," Seifer replied. He pulled out what looked like a palmtop, and started pushing buttons. "I've got a picture of him here somewhere, wanna take a look?"

Syaoran was about to voice his opinion about being compared to someone's pet hound, when Seifer shoved the palmtop into his hands. "There we are. That's Winky when I first found him on the streets of Dollet."

As Syaoran stared at the screen, part of a little video started to play, most likely from Seifer's point of view. A skinny, mangy creature trotted into view, waving its tail slightly from side to side. It was a very light brown, almost the same color as Seifer's hair, with a few darker-brown tiger stripes, and doleful brown eyes that strongly appealed to his sympathy.

"**WHAT IS THIS?! SOME KIND OF DOG-TRAINING?!**"

In a rush of air, the black tip of something related to knives sliced the air inches away from the dog's nose. The poor animal yelped and raced away in the direction it had come from.

Shocked by what he witnessed, Syaoran ignored the rest of the video as he turned to glare at Seifer.

"What? A guy's gotta keep an image."

"You _did that_ to _your dog_?"

"Shoot, Winky, he wasn't my dog yet. I was in the middle of a war," Seifer protested. "I had to wait for the whole thing to clear up before I could go back and grab him home."

Deciding against starting an argument, Syaoran returned to the video, glancing profiles of two men, one with a tattoo and another with a scar the reflection of Seifer's. Then he looked at the buttons, and noticed their arrangement was different from what he was used to. "How do you work this thing?"

"I could show you. Where's yours?" Met with a puzzled expression, Seifer explained further. "Everyone here's entitled to one. Just ask Fog."

"Fog?"

"The train," Seifer replied. He pointed at what looked like a vending machine with speaker unit at the right end of the carriage. "Press the yellow button and ask for your data."

Syaoran approached the machine and pressed the yellow button. He instantly recognized the mechanical voice of earlier.

"**Greetings, sir. How may this one be of service?**"

"Hello...Fog," Syaoran started uncertainly. "I would like my data, please."

"**Certainly, sir. May this one know your full name?**"

"Li Syaoran."

There was a series of beeps and whirs, and a small green palmtop was deposited. Syaoran quickly picked it up and examined it. "Thanks."

"**This one is glad to be of service. Please enjoy your stay here with the Fog Express, serial no. 66-55-91.**"

Syaoran returned to his place beside Seifer, who had already stopped his video and was waiting for him.

"Okay, Winky, listen carefully now. This little baby is a very important tool here for us dead guys. Even Shenzi, Banzai and Ed have their own. In case you're wondering, they're the hyenas in the ninth carriage from the back."

Syaoran nodded. He was getting used to these weird things already. "Go on."

"For starters, this thing is known here as the Life-Tool. It holds everything about your last life, or lives if you reincarnated, in form of video. You can review through any point of your past history as one of the living, simply by referring to the folder marked 'Where I Was'. It's on the right of your screen."

"I see it."

"Then there's the folder marked 'Locating'." Seifer continued. "Select that. We'll continue from in there."

"Got it," Syaoran replied. The screen soon flashed a series of names and strange words. He squinted at his own. "What do they mean by 'resident'?"

"Means you're either on a train, or at one of the stations. You tell the difference by looking for a serial number. See: the 'resident' beside your name has Fog's serial number tagged on it."

"Six-six-five-five-nine-one," Syaoran read. "Okay. What about the others?" He scanned the list of names, some of which were foreign to him. "What's 'transferred'?"

"Reincarnated," Seifer replied. "The number of times is tagged on the right, followed by the current name in use."

"Promoted?"

"Gone to paradise."

"Demoted?"

"Gone to hell."

"Okay." Syaoran thought carefully. "So where is this train headed?"

"Nowhere," Seifer answered.

Syaoran stared at him. "Nowhere?"

"To be specific, we're traveling in circles around Oblivion," Seifer explained. "We don't go to paradise, we don't go to hell, we don't go anywhere."

"So...why are we here?"

Seifer smiled. "The need to meditate, I guess. Putting it more simply, what were your last thoughts before you popped up at the station?"

"That I didn't want to die," Syaoran answered. "It's funny, now that you mentioned it. Then, I was so against leaving. Now I'm just kind of...#shrug# apathetic?"

"You should have seen me, Winky. I was screaming injustice and clawing the ground all the way down to my last breath," Seifer said. He chuckled. "I'm not too sure myself. Guess it's some little voice in your noggin going, 'You're dead already, pretty boy, so don't go moping about it and move your butt.'"

Syaoran laughed as well. "I can go along with that."

"Anyway, Winky, the point is, we weren't ready to let go of what was important to us in that particular life. Here, we get to think over what happened, see if it's worth staying for. When you're ready to put the past behind you for the very last time, you get promoted or demoted. That'll depend on your sins and confessions. Some can't wait that long, or want a second go to make amends, so they file for transfer."

Syaoran thought about it carefully, while skipping to the top of the list. Then he started to scroll down, now and then noticing names that he knew.

_**Balto: PROMOTED**_

_**Banzai: RESIDENT66-55-91**_

_**Bit Cloud: TRANSFERRED1x 'Uzumaki Naruto'**_

_**Blackie: TRANSFERRED7x 'Kuro-Neko'**_

_**Clow Reed: TRANSFERRED(?) 'UNKNOWN' ** ....Of course...._

_**Ed: RESIDENT66-55-91**_

_**Caine 'The Longshot' Edwards: DEMOTED**_

**_Marcus 'Midvalley the Hornfreak' Dickens: DEMOTED_**

Suddenly, he stopped at a name, where he promptly froze.

_**Kinomoto Touya: RESIDENT66-55-91**_

"T-_Touya_?!" he managed to sputter. "Touya's _here_?!"

Footsteps resounded across the aisle. Syaoran looked up, and promptly regretted it.

"GAKI!!"

"AAH!!"

/-----------------------------------/

_**"Are you alright, Akita?"**_

_**"Yes... Yes, sempai," Akita sniffed. "I'm okay."**_

_**Fujiwara placed a comforting hand on her shoulder, and gently took her scribbled note with the other. "I'll call. You go get yourself a drink."**_

_**Head bowed slightly in gratitude, Akita left for the cafeteria.**_

_**Fujiwara examined the phone number that wobbled unsteadily across the paper. Slowly, reluctantly, he hefted the phone across the table, picked up the receiver and dialed. Then he held the receiver to his ear and studied his lap.**_

_**The ringing seemed to go on forever, and Fujiwara feared having to talk to an answering machine and screwing everything up.**_

_**Finally, there was a click, followed by a voice on the other end.**_

_**"Kinomoto Sakura?" Fujiwara asked. He quickly steeled himself. "Hi, my name is Fujiwara Sanji... There is something I think you should know..."**_


	3. An Angry Touya and A Pissed Off Train Dr...

"GAKI!!"

"AAH!!"

Before Syaoran could jump out of the way, a strong broad hand shot out and grabbed him by the back of his shirt. In seconds, he was whipped clear out of the seat and hoisted to meet eye to eye with the man he knew all to well. Resisting the draw into another hypnotizing tournament, Syaoran managed to clear his throat. "Um... Hi, Touya."

Touya glared daggers at him, obviously not in the mood for casual greetings. "What do you think you're doing here, you little Chinese brat?"

Syaoran glared back. "I'd leave, but I happen to dead right now?"

"That's precisely what I mean! Why did you land yourself in this mess when you have responsibilities back there?!" Touya started to shake the smaller boy roughly. "Tell me, gaki: WHAT WERE YOU THINKING?!"

"Hey! Hold on!" Seifer barked at Touya, rising to his feet. "Knock it off!"

"Stay out of this, Almasy!" Touya snapped.

Seifer glared and refused to back down. "Look, normally I wouldn't give a damn about something like this, but what if you wake up Shenzi, Banzai and Ed?"

"TO HELL WITH THOSE STUPID OVERGROWN MUTTS!!"

"**ALRIGHT! THAT'S ENOUGH!**" a loud voice thundered across the carriage, freezing everyone - Touya included - to the spot.

"Aw, shit. _Now_ you've got Chang pissed," Seifer muttered pointedly at Touya. But the voice wasn't done.

"**No fighting on this train, you hear me?! It's bad enough I landed with three hyenas and you guys were given bowling allowance! _I_ don't have to take this INJUSTICE! So BREAK IT UP OR SO HELP ME, I WILL THROW! YOU! OUT! THANK YOU!**"

There was a click, followed by a long silence that almost hurt.

Touya sent one final glare at Syaoran. Then, he dropped the boy back on his seat before storming back to the carriage where he had come from.

At the same time, another raven-haired man came walking up while smoking a bent cigarette. He took a sideways glance at Touya, wisely chose to leave the guy alone to stew, and took up a seat opposite Seifer's. As Seifer sat down as well, the man held up his right hand in brief salute. "What did I miss?"

"Nothing, unless you didn't hear the shouting."

"Heard it alright," the man answered. He looked over to Syaoran. "New friend of yours?"

"Yee-up." Seifer also turned to place his attention on his companion. "Winky, this is Nicholas D. Wolfwood, known in some places as Chapel the... whatever, he's a chapel."

Wolfwood smirked around his cigarette and nodded at Syaoran. "Hiya, Winky."

Syaoran glared up at Seifer, his eyes showing plainly what he felt about his new title. "Look what you did," he hissed.

Seifer shrugged and shifted his attention. "Hey, Wolfwood, spare one in your pack?"

"Last one just for you," Wolfwood replied. Fishing out a cigarette pack that had obviously seen better days, he tossed it over. Seifer caught and chucked it after salvaging a fairly straight cigarette.

Fishing out a box of matches this time, Wolfwood tossed that to Seifer as well. "How long till the bowling, Almasy?"

Seifer caught the box, opened it, and lit his cigarette with one of the matches. Without even consulting a clock or watch, he replied: "Another half hour." Then he slid the matchbox shut and threw it back. "Did you check on the Mad Trio?"

"Was in their carriage when the shouting started," Wolfwood answered. He caught his matchbox and shoved into shirt pocket. "Shenzi rolled over when Chang started to holler, but all three pooches slept through the whole thing."

Seifer was noticeably relieved. "That's good to hear."

"Is there something I should know about the hyenas?" Syaoran asked.

Seifer and Wolfwood stared at Syaoran for a moment, then gave each other funny looks.

"You tell him," Seifer said.

"No, you tell him," Wolfwood said.

"Alright. You be the judge here, Winky," Seifer pointed at himself and Wolfwood. "Who do you want to do the telling?"

"Well, considering you were the one who told me everything so far," Syaoran pointed at Seifer. "Wouldn't hurt to tell me more, so you do it."

Wolfwood smiled smugly. Seifer fired a "Back Off, You" look at him. Looking a little nervous and embarrassed, he started to speak.

"**Calling for passenger Li Syaoran. Please report to the front.**" Fog's voice called out.

"That's your cue to head right and go straight," Seifer quickly explained, slapping Syaoran lightly on the back. "And while you're at it, you can ask 'Five for Flying' about the hyenas."

"Who?"

"Chang Wufei. You'll know him soon enough. He's the one that wants to see you."

/-----------------------------------/

_**"Thank you for coming, Kinomoto-san," Fujiwara said, pushing open a door. "This way, please."**_

_**In his line of work, Fujiwara had always felt that the cold stinging on his bare arms was part of being in the service. Now, it made him wish he wasn't there.**_

_**"We found your name among addresses in this boy's wallet," Fujiwara explained, nodding to his employees that waited before him. "We hope you can help us identify him."**_

_**As the boy's now familiar face was revealed, Fujiwara barely suppressed a flinch. He heard a whimper beside him as the girl he had called started to cry, and felt like a jerk for having to do this to her. He wanted to comfort her, but just the idea of trying made him feel awkward. Instead, Fujiwara closed his eyes and started to pray quietly.**_

**Abba, Father, I guess I'm late in doing this, and I know I've not been a good follower lately, but please,_ he thought._ Please, Lord, if this boy is joining your blessed servants up there... take care of him.**

_**Finishing his prayer, Fujiwara carefully crossed himself and whispered the final word.**_

_**"Amen."**_


	4. Enter Chang Wufei

_"Chang Wufei. You'll know him soon enough. He's the one that wants to see you."_

At the door to the engine room, Syaoran could already picture in his mind what this Chang Wufei would look like: Hair buzzed to near non-existence by a razor, physique like that of a gorilla, beard that was a little more than a goatee, heavy and thick glasses on the bridge of a huge nose.

Steeling himself for a confrontation, Syaoran knocked on the door. There was a moment of silence, save for murmuring from within, before the door swung open heavily. And as he stepped in, it swung itself shut behind him.

Within the room, it was anything but quiet. Bellowing across the walls at a high volume was a rumbling noise, reminding Syaoran very much of a movie he had watched. What was it called again? Earthquake?

"Relax, Mr. Li Syaoran," a familiar voice carried to him over the disturbing rumbles. "You'll get used to it after a while."

There, way at the front where Syaoran had barely noticed before, was a young man of around Touya's age. His slanted almond-shaped black eyes and jet-black hair secured in a tight ponytail were giveaways regarding his cultural heritage. His biceps were well-defined, but not overly so as pictured earlier. He wore a pair of white training pants and a blue muscle shirt, and draped over a chair was the white top that, when worn, would complete a traditional Chinese outfit.

This had to be Chang Wufei.

The man's hard eyes looked him over, as though sizing him up. Then they were covered from view by his eyelids, and he raised a hand in a half-salute. "I see that it is not necessary to introduce myself, as Almasy has already told you my name. Should be correct, is it not?"

"Yes, it is," Syaoran answered. "But...um...but how did you know that when we were four carriages away?"

"The same way that I knew there was a fight going on," Wufei replied bluntly. He nodded up at the rumbling sound that seemed to vibrate from the ceilings. "The ones responsible for what you're hearing presently can be seen in the seventh monitor screen over there."

Syaoran crossed the room to the monitor screen that Wufei was pointing at, and observed it. "It's the three hyenas I saw earlier," he noted. Then he understood. "This noise...it's their snoring, isn't it?"

"Correct." Wufei nodded as emphasis to his word. "All sounds made in any one of the passenger carriages is at a fixed amplification of four times the volume in here."

"So that was why you were so...angry just now."

Wufei nodded again, and, for moment, looked a little more tired and a little less fierce. "Yes. You could say that it was," he said, then his old facade snapped back into position.

Syaoran watched him carefully. "So...you called me in here to tell me off?"

Wufei snorted and waved him off. "I can't be bothered with that sort of thing. Besides, only weaklings make enemies with people that are stuck with them until Jade-Emperor-himself-knows-when."

"Okay," Syaoran said slowly. "So-o-o... What am I here for?"

"Administrative matters and audio tutorial," Wufei answered, extending his hand toward him, palm up. "Hand me your Life-Tool."

Syaoran pulled out the small green palmtop from his pocket and presented it.

Taking the small machine, Wufei placed it at a main console and plugged it in to a unit. A set of letters and numbers appeared on the screen, and the strong hand flew nimbly over the keyboard as they typed it in. Then Wufei disconnected the Life-Tool and handed it back.

"This way, I can call you in a more private matter, or you can tell me ahead of time if you want to come here," he explained.

Syaoran took it back and examined it himself. The code he had seen earlier was no longer there.

"Almasy has already gone through the basic stuff. Less work for me," Wufei said, a little more to himself. Then he came to address Syaoran again. "We'll go on with your networking. Activate your Life-Tool... You there? Good. There's an icon on the right under your 'Locating' folder. See it?"

"The one that looks like a silver donut with a nail shoved through it?"

"That's a disc, not a donut. And the whole thing is supposed to be Fog's symbol," Wufei explained, looking scandalized for a minute. "But never mind. Activate that icon to your own preference."

Syaoran started to do as he was instructed. He came across a pop menu of 'optional additions', and frowned a little. "What do they mean by 'Peer Alert'?"

"It works a little like the e-mailing system back in the real word," Wufei replied. "Except, with Peer Alert, you are notified on the status of whoever you fill in the list. And it does not have to be someone who's already dead. You can fill in someone who's still among the living and hasn't come down here yet."

"And how do I do that?" Syaoran asked.

"The names you see in 'Locating' are the basic restricted list for dead people only." Wufei explained. "In order to see the full list, which would include the living, you have to change the properties of 'Locating' to 'liberal'. Try that... Got it?"

Just as Syaoran was about to answer, another rumbling echoed through the engine room, this time like thunder. Wufei muttered something along the lines of "injustice" and "stupid weaklings".

"The bowling session's started. You want to go there and join in the game?"

"I'd rather stay here and finish the rest of the tutorial... May I?"

Looking a little more pleased, Wufei bent over Syaoran's Life-Tool again. "Now we'll look at the video activation of selected people from the 'Locating' list..."

/-----------------------------------/

**_Akita spied a silver-haired man just coming in, and went to meet him. "Tsukishiro Yukito?" she asked._**

**_"Yes, that's me," the man replied, bowing slightly in greeting. "And you're...?"_**

**_Akita stepped back slightly to return the bow. "I am Akita Hikari. Fujiwara Sanji's making an overseas call right now. Your friend - she's in the room there," she informed, pointing._**

**_Tsukishiro Yukito thanked her, and moved on. After the man had disappeared from her sights, Akita headed for main office. But Fujiwara was already done and no longer there. Then she made her way to a storage room. Seeing the door slightly ajar, she looked in._**

**_Fujiwara was furiously making his way through a packet of beef jerky, gnawing at the tough meat like it had done him wrong._**

**_Akita was silent as she watched him. Fujiwara Sanji never allowed himself to cry, not for the sake of his pride, but for his duty. It would be no surprise to say that he had forgotten how to voluntarily shed a tear._**

**_Carefully, she shut the door behind her, giving the man she admired some privacy to be human again. _**


End file.
